Admittedly it’s work. But oh my god is it worth it. Although receiving is also delicious—watching breasts-bounce and a woman’s mouth agape while she watches me in pleasure, feeling her body against mine, soft and supple—here, I’m talking about being the one wearing the strap-on.
I was always a humper. I love to hump, and I did a lot of masturbating that way. I don’t think I have penis envy per se, but I was always really curious what it felt like to be able to penetrate a woman, what it must feel like to be inside of someone else. Sure, my fingers can feel, but we don’t have nearly as many nerve endings there as our genitals. Yes, my tongue can also feel, but it’s not the same as being inside someone and looking in their eyes.
Enter the strap-on. My first time was tricky, I had a hard time getting the angle right. Skip that one.
The second time I entered her missionary, and it blew my mind. I felt like I could feel her. I mentioned this on my episode of the Girls Gone Deep podcast (118): even though I know it’s a dildo, not me, inside of her, I felt so connected to her it felt like it was my own body inside of her. It reminds me of how people with prosthetic limbs report being able to feel sensations in the prosthetic, and new science indicates the brain does remap its body schema around the extension. As she pulsed, I felt it. When she squeezed, I felt it. And of course, as she got wetter, and eventually convulsed, I felt that too.
It was also shockingly intimate. Being able to look into her eyes and kiss her while fucking her made me feel so much more connected to and invested in her pleasure. Feeling her breasts against mine only aroused me further, and being able to act on that arousal by pulling her hair or pulling her in deeper to me made it harder and harder for me not to come. When I’m eating a woman out, I am in-tune with the woman, but also keenly aware of the precision and timing of my (micro)movements. Since the movements with a strap-on are bigger, it’s a little bit more forgiving and therefore freeing. I just love it.
One night, I fucked three women with a strap-on (with protection and cleaning it thoroughly between each), and it was fun to experience how different women fuck. One wanted to ride me, one wanted missionary, and another wanted me to take her from behind. In each position I got to know each woman differently, grabbing them and feeling their orgasms from different angles. The next day my core hurt so bad I could barely get out of bed. But obviously I’d live that night a million times over.
My favorite moment is when a woman goes from yelling and praising to when she can barely breathe or express anything. When her mouth drops open and her eyes roll back. I love the feat of endurance it takes to keep going, and it always makes me come too. In this way, strap-on play reminds me how much of my own orgasm is caused by forces beyond the stimulation happening down below–the sounds, the sights, how her skin feels, it all does work to tip me over the top.
We give men a lot of shit for only lasting two minutes, but now I get it. We also give men shit for being obsessed with penetration, but I now have more compassion for that too. Women are beautiful to behold and almost nothing arouses me more than bringing a woman pleasure through penetration. Getting to watch and feel at the same time is unlike any other sexual act. Even scissoring, which is the closest, isn’t the same because it requires both women to have stamina. With a strap-on, I feel powerful in allowing her to relax while I do what she’s begging me to do.
With the strap-on, I feel intertwined with her pleasure, in sync with each breath. And these moments have produced some of the hottest memories of my life.
So, I take my hip thrusts at the gym very seriously.
Much love to all the women who’ve let me fuck them, and to the many more who will,
Honey